


What's Essential

by wordpunk



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Carterwood, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Smut, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordpunk/pseuds/wordpunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy wakes to find she's not alone in Sousa's cold, LA office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Casual Affair

Peggy had only recently taken to spending her nights at the SSR, curled up on an iron army bed in the corner of Sousa’s office. She had tried not to think of how difficult it may have been for Daniel to adjust to Los Angeles alone.

Thick files and photographs of Las Vegas mobsters litter the ground around the bed, menacing mugshots in the moonlight. Peggy had been close to a revelation, so many of their travels tracing back to LA, but sleep and whiskey had taken its toll.

Peggy rolled over in her sleep, nose cold from the chilly air, only to feel a sharp resistance keeping her wrist from following suit. Her eyes shot open, first to look at the cuffs now chaining her right hand to the bed and second, to a pair of long legs, crossed and leading up to a woman Peggy had so repeatedly tried to thwart.

Peggy snapped up from the bed, jerking the cuffs across the frame and adjusting her stance to be as ready as possible for Dottie Underwood’s strike.

“What is the meaning of this?” Peggy half-shouted. She could feel her body waking up, heat rushing back to her cheeks, heart beating fast.

Of course, Thompson couldn’t keep Dottie restrained, let alone try and interrogate her. Here the woman sits on Sousa’s chair, free as a bird. Peggy scolded herself for not fighting Jack’s orders to leave New York more.

“Peggy, Peggy, Peggy. It’s as if you don’t even know me.” Dottie glanced around Sousa’s office. “Leaving me behind with those silly boys and padded walls.” 

_True. Without his touch of a Dodgers hat here, a miniature of the Chrysler building there, Sousa’s office did seem-_

“You know I prefer my chambers cold and unforgiving,” Dottie said. A smug smile spread across her face, “So, I’m paying you a visit.”

Peggy ran through the potential weapons surrounding her. It was one thing to face Dottie alone, with no backup, and another to have a whole hand out of commission. 

_Hmm, stapler always came in handy, hair grease would slip her out of the cuffs, …she could drag the heavy bed over to the desk, but using the phone would tie up her other hand. Ah! The phone cord could be a viable option._

The sharp landing of heels brought Peggy’s attention back to Dottie.

“I wouldn’t bother. It’s late, and the rest of your useless men are sleeping peacefully with their obedient wives.” Dottie rose from Sousa’s chair, her fingers reaching for something in her pocket. “Why not stay here with me? I’ve been meaning to give you a reward.”

“The only reward I’ll enjoy is seeing you back in proper custody,” Peggy seethed, now contemplating the whole bed as a weapon.

“Oh, you’ve had your fair share of rewards for saving the day.” Dottie stepped closer. Peggy braced herself for the worst. “This involves returning a few things I’ve borrowed.”

“Borrowed? What on earth-” Peggy shifted back onto her right foot and felt a scratch across her thigh. Ana Jarvis had kindly made a holster to accommodate a pistol, but how was Peggy going to reach it so quickly and unguarded?

Dottie inched toward Peggy. A familiar perfume preceded the assassin, something soft and close to smelling like her own. Her sharp features broke into an innocent beam. 

“Your lipstick,” Dottie lilted, playing with the golden tube in her hand, the unassuming, yet poisonous, ‘Sweet Dreams’ reflected in the light.

Peggy considered Dottie’s florid lips and flinched at the memory of collapsing in a hallway of the Griffith, helpless and vulnerable to Fennhoff’s greater plot.

“Don’t be silly; I’m not wearing it,” quipped Dottie, lodging the tube somewhere between the agent’s belt and blouse. A clinch of Peggy’s fist may have given too much of her composure away, but Dottie remained at ease. “That’s not why I’m here.”

Knowing she’d have to humor the woman to get her shackles removed, Peggy sighed. “Then what brings you to California, Miss Underwood?”

“Didn’t you miss me, Peg? Seems I’ve been on your mind quite a bit.” Dottie winked.

“How do you mean?” said Peggy, getting more annoyed by the second. “I left your case in New York with Thompson.”

“You mean the savage that tried to interrogate me with a carrot? ” Dottie laughed, walking away to postulate further on Thompson’s incompetence. 

“Oh, could you please just get to the point?” Peggy urged. She was eyeing a few stray paperclips on the windowsill. 

“All that hard work you put into an ambush, calculating my next steps, waiting for me. It’s as if you were _trying_ read my mind.”

“I do my best to evaluate threats and quickly apprehend.”

“Yes, and you wasted no time blessing me with quite the expensive headache.”

“I was simply growing tired of your predictable maneuvers.”

Dottie’s eyes flashed with delight.

“Why did you have to leave New York, Peg? We were having so much fun.” As she closed in, a soft click emitted from behind the agent.

Picked free of the cuffs, Peggy raised both hands to stop Dottie in her tracks. 

“I wouldn’t move.” Her voice was low and commanding, a level at which she normally reserved only for interrogation.

Dottie tutted, looking Peggy up and down, “Your boys would be disappointed it took you this long.” 

“As I’ve said before, Miss Underwood, I am not afraid of you, tied up or free.”

“But you should be,” Dottie stated, locking eyes with her long-lasting mark. Her gaze narrowed. “Our time at the Griffith really gave me a chance to see a different side of you, Peggy. And I’ve found you have one constant,” with another step, the two women were inches away.

Slowly, the words crept from Dottie’s lips, “You never back down.”

Peggy watched Dottie’s eyes move to her own lips, blue eyes fading into grey steel. Before she could make a move, Peggy had her roughly by the chin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Peggy’s eyes darted back and forth, searching the spy.

“Finishing my job,” Dottie breathed against Peggy’s wrist, still red from the cuffs. 

Peggy’s hand jerked away from Dottie, startled and confused, providing just enough momentum for Dottie’s lips to find their target.

Peggy stiffened like a board, reeling from the recall of a tainted kiss. Without the deadly layer of paint, Dottie’s lips were soft. 

_What was this, some odd attempt at interrogating through intimacy?_

A sensation likened to diving into a pool of ice water had started to flow throughout Peggy’s strength. Dottie’s fingers reached for her neckline and found themselves tangled in soft, brunette curls.

Peggy took a breath through her nose, her body at a stalemate between ripping Dottie in two and deepening the kiss. What had gotten into her? 

Colonel Phillips’ words resonated deep in her chest, _“Mission trumps all,”_ but what kept the solider in Peggy down, was Steve’s honest reply, _“These are real people we’re dealing with beneath these masks.”_

Peggy forced Dottie away, creating actual distance this time, and stared hard at her expression, pouty and frustrated at the break in process.

 _This curse of a woman,_ Peggy thought. She would play, fight back even, but what was a spy’s reasoning behind such lascivious impulses?

Dottie shot a look at Peggy’s whiskey glass and downed the leftover shot, never breaking her gaze. Peggy raised an eyebrow. Dottie could only grin.

“I believe I need a moment to myself,” Peggy breathed. She bent down to organize the files at their feet.

“So you can decide what to do with me?” Dottie scoffed.

Peggy stood back up with the pistol from her garter, “Precisely.”

In a moment’s flash, Dottie had Peggy’s gun arm pinned against the wall and the other bent back at her waist.

“I doubt you’ll find a proper conclusion.”

Dottie’s lips found Peggy’s again, this time with more force. The spice and toasted oak of Sousa’s whiskey crept into Peggy’s senses, unmercifully relaxing her cheeks.

But Peggy rolled her eyes. Keeping their lips together, she twisted her left arm free of Dottie’s grasp and reached for the tube of ‘Sweet Dreams’. Pulling away as much as she could without slamming her head into the wall, Peggy took one end of the tube in her mouth and spit the cap across the room. 

In a quick twist, she had the color out and on her own lips.

“Very well,” managed Peggy, before dropping the tube and daring Dottie to continue.

Dottie smiled. “You are just too precious,” she whispered, her breath cool on Peggy’s skin.

It wasn’t that Peggy’s head was clouded by Dottie’s kiss, but more she was all too pleased with her ploy to realize she had forgotten to protect the rest of her body.

And what an oversight, it was. With one hand still holding her arm tight against the wall, Dottie moved toward Peggy’s lips, again, bypassing the bane for her jawline, the contour of her cheek.

Peggy felt an amused rush of air from Dottie’s nose that sent shivers down her spine. She was so close to being frozen in place, while the spy continued to kiss down her neckline and above her shirt collar.

Dottie’s grip on Peggy relaxed, and she slowly walked her fingers away from the gun to pull back at Peggy’s shirt.

“Is that necessary?” Peggy choked a bit on her words as Dottie planted a kiss to her collarbone.

“Mm,” came Dottie’s muffled voice. “Essential.”


	2. If Crazy=Genius

The idea of having any desire but to keep Dottie under control had never crossed Peggy’s mind.

Yet, it seemed Dottie had no trouble whatsoever reading Peggy’s every move. How incredibly frustrating-

Peggy realized she hadn’t taken a proper breath since Dottie pinned her against the wall. She took Dottie’s pause over the top button of her blouse to gain composure.

Peggy twisted away from Dottie, bringing the gun back to point blank range. 

A wave of fear passed not over Dottie’s countenance, but Peggy’s. 

Dottie stared. Another smirk crept up as she evenly stated, “You remind me of an old friend.”

Peggy cocked the pistol.

“I killed her on the same grounds where we used to play knives.”

“Quit stalling,” Peggy’s finger slipped in place over the trigger, coating it with a light sweat.

“You don’t believe me,” Dottie walked toward the miniscule barrel of Peggy’s gun. “Yet you’re so similar.”

“Why are you here, Dottie?” Peggy implored, matching her advance to meet steel with skin.

“You seem less broken,” Dottie’s eyes softened before she overtook Peggy and knocked the pistol away. The gun clattered to the floor.

Within seconds, Peggy had her by the collar of her suit jacket. 

“I followed...him...here,” Dottie slipped out, taking pleasure in being so close to Peggy, again.

Peggy’s eyes searched the spy, “Who?” 

“They set me free,” Dottie cooed, backing away.

“Get back here!” Peggy grabbed her by the upper arm.

“What? You still wanna talk?” Dottie eyed the agent up and down, excited to be ensnared.

“How do you mean they set you free?”

“I’m here of my own will.”

Peggy knew Dottie remained as dangerous as she had been back in New York. However, it seemed she demanded a different sort of sparring under separate contract.

“The occasion?” Peggy inquired, edging closer to Dottie. The side of her shoe felt a resistance: the fallen pistol. She flirted with Dottie, playing along.

Dottie closed the distance just as Peggy expertly slid the pistol away and beneath the cot. 

The two women collided with skill. 

Instantly Peggy went for Dottie’s throat, lips catching the hum of her next words:

“Does it matter?”

“If it affects my men,” Peggy insisted, continuing to kiss her way up Dottie’s neck and over to her mouth.

“You mean the ones under your spell,” stated Dottie, clear as a bell, before Peggy’s ‘Sweet Dreams’ met her lips.

“Spell?” Peggy pulled away, curious. 

The two women looked more like prizefighters than a ballroom pair.

“Peggy you’ve attracted every man in the reserve with a beating heart,” said Dottie, toying again with that top button.

“I highly doubt that.” Peggy grabbed Dottie’s hands, pinning them behind her back and forcing her to Sousa’s desk. A rogue baseball wobbled off its stand. 

Dottie giggled, bent backwards over piles of unsolved cases. 

“You didn’t give me a proper answer,” pressed Peggy.

“I’m-” Dottie started, surging up to Peggy’s lips, hungry for the rush of ‘Sweet Dreams’. She dragged her threat to Peggy’s left ear, “after your adversary.”

Peggy’s mind worked out both at once: _The lip color did nothing but intensify Dottie’s pursuits, poison be damned. And…adversary?_

Peggy deepened their kiss, forcing Dottie back down and balancing herself by risking a free hand. In any other world, this thick adrenaline would have been something passionate.

She exhaled, pulling away from Dottie’s kiss, "Jack Thompson?" she snarled, disgusted by the thought of the man being her so-called adversary.

“Isn’t it a gas?” asked Dottie, thrilled by the very thought of homicide.

Sure, Peggy had felt the upmost disdain for Jack since she had joined the New York branch, but he wasn’t one of the bad guys. He wasn’t worth losing for Peggy’s advance.

Dottie’s muscles tensed beneath Peggy’s body. 

A brass letter opener flew up to her throat as Dottie maneuvered their bodies back to a standing position. 

“He isn’t the only one.”

Peggy shuddered at the blade’s contact, unbelieving that Dottie would play her for so long just to kill her now. She needed something. 

Leaning her hips into Dottie’s, Peggy tracked a few steps back, pulling her along through pure magnetism.

“Go on,” she said, trailing her hands up from Dottie’s hips to her torso, drumming fingers along ribs.

Dottie’s eyes widened with glee. Turning the opener on its side, she pushed Peggy closer to the bed stopping just inches away.

Feeling Dottie’s hesitation, Peggy backed the last step and removed her hands. She considered the idea of taunting Dottie further while the blade remained pressed into her larynx.

Dottie’s heel caught the back of Peggy’s knees, dropping her down into a sitting position on the bed. 

Peggy plucked the opener away, placing it on the windowsill. Slow and unhurried, she unbuttoned the suit jacket Dottie had adorned the very same day she attempted to escape with Fenhoff. 

Dottie’s nimble fingers found their way around Peggy’s throat.

With a sharp intake of breath, Peggy pulled Dottie on top of her, kissing her with the remaining smear of ‘Sweet Dreams’. 

Dottie returned the favor eagerly, wrapping an arm around Peggy's upper body. She held the agent just above the mattress, a serpent ready to strike.

The muscles in Peggy’s back relaxed, searching for stability, but finding only void. Her nerves shot into astronomical panic and a small whimper escaped from her mouth. 

Dottie’s tongue found Peggy’s leading her to recall the days she and her brother Michael would stop on the way home from school for soft serve ice cream. She needed control. _Fast._

Peggy took the lapels of Dottie’s jacket and pulled them hard around the assassin’s arms, limiting her range of motion. Dottie lowered Peggy’s body, but transferred the ensnarement to her legs.

Dottie tilted her head to the side, keeping her thighs tight around Peggy’s hips, as she shed the jacket and dove back down for a kiss. 

Peggy caught the scent of orchids and summer leaves in a graveyard as she threw her hands around Dottie's neck. 

_Dottie had most certainly stolen her perfume._

She looked up to find Dottie had closed her eyes, a sudden trust, as her lips left a heated trail to the buttons of Peggy’s blouse. 

Dottie noted the spackling of freckles above Peggy’s breasts. She rose to kiss her, more teeth than lips from smiling so wide. 

Peggy’s brown eyes reflected a similar pattern in golden streaks.

Buttons were undone and Dottie’s hands found the upper lace of Peggy's rose-colored slip.


	3. Better When It Feels Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JESUS CHRIST HERE WE GO.

Peggy watched the obsession in Dottie grow. She was so close to smiling herself, having missed the feeling of being wanted. 

Polished, red nails followed Dottie’s stomach down to un-tuck her silk shirt. Peggy wasted no time. She pulled it quickly over Dottie’s head, using the brief moment of cover to retrieve the letter opener and slide it beneath the pillow.

“You seem to have lost your ability to speak, Miss Underwood,” Peggy inquired, bringing her hands to Dottie’s shoulders, squeezing lean arms. A finger rushed to Peggy’s lips. 

Dottie followed the curve of Peggy’s collarbone to the strap of her slip. In a flourish, Dottie lips replaced the fallen ribbon. 

With infallible balance, Dottie pinned Peggy’s arms above her head with one hand. Another ran steady down Peggy’s side and stopped at her waistline. 

The lightness of Dottie’s touch made her shiver. Peggy arched her back, rising to Dottie’s hips and leaving space to unzip her skirt. Peggy’s satin slip continued beneath the wool.

“Dottie!” Peggy exclaimed, suddenly remembering the holster, as well as the gun beneath the bed. 

Dottie looked up as Peggy nodded to her trapped hands. “Necessary?” There was more determination in Peggy’s eyes than annoyance, this time.

Slowly, Dottie released her vice-grip and abandoned the skirt. 

Peggy met her lips with an untold patience. Their kissing unstable, skin catching on lace, gliding on silk. Both women were trying to wear each other down in a calamity of fervor.

Peggy sat up, fingertips moving from sharp shoulder blades to the clasp of Dottie’s bra. Transferring her weight, she turned Dottie onto the mattress and released the garment at once. As straps loosened, Peggy ran her fingers between flesh and band. She looked up to find Dottie biting her lip…hard.

Dottie pushed Peggy’s skirt down the rest of her suspended body. The agent had more strength in her calves than in some men’s biceps. She pulled Peggy’s hips above her own, sliding one hand down the curve of a cheek to meet the holster.

“New toy?” Dottie asked, meeting nothing but bated silence as she un-hooked the holster and tossed it.

Peggy’s kiss turned swiftly into a nip at Dottie’s neck. She lifted Dottie’s bra away and taunted the delicate skin revealed.

Dottie’s hand slid beneath Peggy’s slip to find the openwork of stockings. She hooked a finger over the lace, working the nylons down. 

Peggy’s velvet kiss reached the shell of Dottie’s ear as she reacted to hands on her inner thighs. She hadn’t forgotten where she left her own, slowly encircling one of the assassin’s breasts. Peggy lifted her legs to be on either side of Dottie’s hips, encouraging hosiery away with her once weight-bearing hand. She came up for air, finding Dottie’s eyes searching for her own.

“Come on. Off with it,” Peggy said, aiming to access more of Dottie. 

What she hadn’t seen before were fading bruises, ribs at an angle that suggested an altered curve to Dottie’s spine from long ago. Her eyes softened into a vulnerability she was sure Dottie would take full advantage of. She bent down to lightly press her lips between the curve of breast and ribcage, crazed muscles twisting tight beneath the skin.

Dottie released a low and soft moan. Frustrated, she turned her attention to Peggy’s frame, half-exposed to the cold office air. Her hands glided north on glossy curves to drag thumbs across Peggy’s nipples.

Peggy gasped, her weight falling further onto Dottie’s sharp hipbones. She kissed Dottie, reckless and taken, as her hands continued.

It was true these actions had them undone. Peggy had taken Dottie’s upper lip, sending flourishes of her tongue across the tender skin. With haste, both women started work on Dottie’s trousers, flinging them haphazardly onto Sousa’s chair. 

Dottie wrapped her legs up and around Peggy’s torso, flipping her onto her back, again. 

Peggy’s hips angled up to meet Dottie’s grinding down hard, pinning her to the bed. Peggy reached to encircle Dottie’s neck, but the spy had different ideas.

Dottie grabbed Peggy’s solid upper arms, bracing herself as she kissed her way down the agent’s stomach. Lifting the slip to rest just below her chest, Dottie traced circles on Peggy’s hips with her tongue.

Muscles tensed and Peggy managed a light groan of approval before losing her hands in Dottie’s hair. 

Dottie made sure to drag her bottom lip as she backtracked her course to land a bite to the top of Peggy’s left breast. 

Hands shot to the side of the small bed. Dottie glanced over to Peggy, riled up in a state that had the veins in her hands popping like ranges on a topographical map

“And Masters,” said Dottie softly, leaning to kiss Peggy’s arm. Before the agent could comprehend, she added. “Essential.”

“The man who set you free?” whispered Peggy, bringing her hand to Dottie’s cheekbone, wiping away a stray eyelash.

Dottie kissed the inside of Peggy’s wrist and returned attention to her hips.

Peggy desperately tried to recall detachment training, carrying out orders without thinking of the individual cost. Her muscles were burning. She remembered the letter opener waiting ready behind the pillow. The pillow that was keeping her head at the perfect angle to witness Dottie tugging at her lingerie with her teeth.

The next few moments were a blur as Dottie expertly made her way from kissing the thin skin around Peggy’s ankles to where thighs met womanhood. Dottie’s tongue sank into a rhythm encouraged by Peggy’s wet, hot fluster.

Peggy focused hard on her SOE training, each calculated movement, block, and counter, but Dottie’s undulating pressure was sending her nerve endings into overdrive. 

Gasping, having enough of Dottie’s complete nonsense, she reached for the letter opener the very moment Dottie pulled away. Instead, her hands rushed to the iron frame. _Son of a-_

“He continues to interfere with our work,” Dottie purred with sibilance. She now hovered over Peggy, mentally miles away from her physical pursuits. 

Peggy could tell she was losing Dottie to the mission.

“And…if I refuse to let you do this?” said Peggy coyly, tracing the outer seam of Dottie’s underclothes. She pressed her hand between Dottie’s thighs to find her more than already satisfied.

Dottie closed her eyes once more, rolling her hips into the agent’s hold. 

Peggy shifted her hand between skin and silk, just as Dottie had before with her ‘borrowed’ lipstick. She could use another round of whiskey, right about now. 

Slowly, she worked her middle fingers over Dottie, one following the other, rendering her down to quivers.

Dottie grabbed Peggy’s free hand, placing it over a breast before bracing herself with a hand on the iron frame. The woman obliged, keeping her rhythm agonizingly slow and torturous. 

“The SSR will be dissolved,” Dottie silvered out. “As will the country.”

The assassin’s words placed Peggy into high gear, her fingers now inside Dottie, curling toward a culmination of jolts and moans. 

Riding Peggy hard, Dottie brought her free hand back around to Peggy’s clit sending threads of lightning into her vision.

Dizzy from Dottie’s sounds and her own pleasure, Peggy climaxed just as Dottie handcuffed her hand back onto the bed.

Dottie remained, her body still shaking, melting into Peggy’s sweat. 

Infuriated, Peggy managed, “The war department…is being controlled….”

Dottie kissed Peggy’s cheek then buried her face in the crook of her shoulder. She turned to whisper into Peggy’s ear,

“By Leviathan and the Council of Nine…most of the men currently spread across your office floor.”

Peggy didn’t think she could be more stunned.

As Dottie rolled away from Peggy, pulling on her trousers, she stopped to take a look at Peggy, all muck and heavy breathing. She smiled.

“Until next time, sweets,” quipped Dottie, pressing a cold finger to Peggy’s lips, then to her own, before disappearing into the bullpen.

Peggy struggled to sit up. She immediately set to work on the cuffs with Sousa’s letter opener, wondering how she’d explain her reasoning behind Chief Thompson’s weak but all too threatening connections to the Las Vegas mafia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And so, I will patiently wait."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to AS for believing in this fleeting daydream of a whim.


End file.
